White House, Oval Office
FDR and his Military heads along with Government Heads. They were gathered in this particular room for some reason that correlates to Enterprise-80 slight strange behavior, right now they were confused. Adm. King, who's in the receiving end of the Navy, found himself pondering about the strange behavior. He's not alone, everyone does.
Theodore is puzzled as to why she's like that explain certain things that considered critical while munching chips, she's not in a high-school presentation, she's explaining certain things like her new found strange behavior.
"Ma'am." Bunker Hill-76's voice boomed softly. "It be better to stop eating those chips while you're addressing everyone at the Oval Office."
Even her Secretary Ship couldn't handle the strange behavior to the stern and straight forward Secretary. Her munching that chips in front of the President and Officials right in the white house.
Enterprise-80 didn't notice that she's munching that potato chip for the past 10 minutes without her noticing, the sound of crushing chips in her mouth muffled the words she wants to spoke. She paused for a lengthy moment as the eerie silence, the line dot could be audible at everyone's ear.
With a sigh, she gave it Frigate Belfast who stowed it away for her reach, she's subconscious about eating potato chips.
"Like what I said." She began, continuing with the discussion. "I have some certain yet small changes at my personality."
"Like that when you're stressed?" Theodore said casually.
"Yeah... that's the prominent one." she clarifies.
FDR chimed in. "You said you were exposed to such darkness that it affected you greatly along with your personality? Would that hinder our future operations; we can't let you command a Task Force with such unstable mind." He said with concern visible in his voice.
"that won't be a problem, I'm asking for a leave in service to ease my mind, sometimes my intrusive thoughts leaked out unknowingly." She said holding her aching temple.
"Intrusive thoughts?" that word get everyone attention speculation.
The word intrusive thought do has carry a deeper meaning than the tone of her words, and with the aching head, that's sounds trouble. To their guess-peculation and based to the reports, Enterprise-80 does go off proportional if situation called in.
But Theodore didn't go with the same train tracks of thoughts as the others, her gaze is sweeping the surrounding area as to find clues, find clues she did. Frigate Belfast hid her flustering cheeks in a professionalism of duty. Hands clasped together, chin resting, she had an understanding of what transpired. Her small childlike demeanor is the stark contrast of her personality, she flashed a grin.
"I'll gave you the time of leave, your efforts at the alliance is unmatched and irreplaceable. Do take time to recover. The high seas a waits your return along with your command." FDR said, as he and the rest agreed to her request of leave.
Enterprise-80 gave a curt nod and excuse herself at slight fuss steer at the Oval Office. She and her entourages of Kansens left the Office.
"Alright, it seems we need to update the Fleet about this new found second personality that Miss Enterprise harbored. Some of the Girls and Officers would find it strange." FDR remarked as his decision were firm.
"A wise choice Mr. President, but...." Adm. King paused in concern. "Would this information would reach the ears of our enemies."
"Good point." FDR considers that possible information leakage.
Gen. Eisenhower form a light bulb above his head, the proposed plan sound stupid but it stood with the current predicament. "What if... we call it her new feature - I mean Shipgirls goes the same process when they were retrofitted. Minor or big changes on their personality and appearance. Would that be a good excuse?"
"Fair point." A murmur of agreement sounded agreeing to that idea.
At the Hallways of the White House. Enterprise-80 and her entourage existed the confines of the Oval Office, Theodore follows along.
"So." Theodore began her voice lace with inquiry. "About that intrusive thoughts of yours, did your altered personality stepped out of line."
The three stops and turn to meet her in her inquiry and smug face. Bunker Hill-76 seems not bothered, Enterprise-80 groaned as that accident is to fresh in mind, Frigate Belfast flushed a crimson red.
Theodore gestures with her two hands as she grasps what just transpired, the expression of her hand is something squishing an object that fell in the category of watermelon.
"Yeah.... Bastard lashed out and did that." Enterprise-80 admits like it was not that of a big deal. But the receiving end did not, the react is a contrast to hers.
"Ahem," Bunker Hill-76 scuffed. "were inside the presidential abode, things such as this need to be keep in private and not a casual converse in public."
Theodore abandoned her genuine grin and replaced with a pouting face. "Boo.... You're too strict for one's comfort."
"I prefer it that way." She counters.
Enterprise-80 couldn't maintain her growing headache broke the tensed atmosphere. "Alright, that's enough. I'm too tired with all this nonsense. Well see you later, Ma'am." She said, respecting the senior.
Theodore brushed off the formal status. "Ma'am is to formal and didn't quite match and fitting. I'd preferred to be called by my old name by associates and friends as TR or just my name."
Enterprise-80 gave a curt nod and continue ahead to her stay at Blair House escorted by Frigate Belfast. Out in the entrance a ride awaits for them.
Returning back to the two, Theodore began. "So, what things should I know before I took this mess?" she asked about the detail of the work that Enterprise-80 left for her to pick.
Bunker Hill-76 already written down the document and files about the things she needs to catch-up with. She handed her the table that contained the data. "Right at this tablet, here you can read all the things you need to know about the Task Force composition, and recent events regarding the Sirens and Crimson Axis."
Theodore sifted through the Files, and those documented recent events didn't disappoint. "I guess everyone is busy at the recent events." She said face frowned.
"Now this is done." She said without reading the thing. "When will we meet the rest?"
Bunker Hill-76 just only gave a stare before responding. "Now."
...
Front Lawn
Everyone stood in attendance, mostly. Both Cleve-Dude and Canberra felt unease at gaze that the one obvious Bunny of the Group. The gaze she's given were like a concentrated laser piercing through them. They didn't need no sensitive sensors to detect the tensed gaze as the heat was felt.
"what's her problem mate?" Canberra asked in a tone of whisper as her lips hid movement.
"I don't know... it felt like personal." Cleve-dude said in a close lip.
Laffey-200 slightly shifted her brows, beads of sweats drops from the very forehead of the two. She hates the seeing nor sensing the presence of the LCSs and if get to the point, she will do Gen. Shepherd on these two.
"It be better for you two to not move a muscle... or breath – whatever things could catch her attention." Lafayette instructed the two LCS.
Anchorage-23 (The San Antonio Class Amphibious Ship) stood firm her demeanor is that of stoic and unwavering. Yet her brows twitches in a slight as she stood face to face to her assumed twin. Their figure mirrored the shape, yet one is bulky with mass, their eyes painted a stark contrast of their personality.
Cruiser Anchorage and her innocent personality attract attentions to those around her, either pulled her child like charm, or the two obvious ones in her chest.
( IMAGE )
Anchorage-23 differs a lot, the bearing and the seriousness of the face washed out that child-like wonder of her counterpart.
"he – Hello... My name is Anchorage." Cruiser Anchorage introduces herself in striking child-like conduct, that had a different mixed reaction to the Modern Kansens.
Anchorage-23's brows twitched in a fashion of a Drill Sgt. ready to pounce on a goody two-shoe recruit. Her body twitches in the impulse pouncing.
"Dear God Please fucking kill me." She uttered in whisper yet audible to a person next to her.
Cruiser Anchorage leaned in slightly tilting her head and ask. "Is something the matter?" the tone of her voice is so childish and innocent that it strucked a core to harsh personality of her counterpart.
Kidd noticing the shimmering death glare on Anchorage-23's eyes, intervened and stop the boiling pot from exerting a steam.
"I think she's alright... she's just not in a mood for..." she trailed of.
"For what?" Cruiser Anchorage asked innocently.
"Let's just say.... things we didn't hope to see." Kidd played it cool like talking to a toddler.
"OHKAY.... Nice to meet you too." She said waving a goodbye like a playful child.
"Yeah, nice to meet you too." Kidd return the gesture and wave goodbye.
JP Jones speak his mind. "This is different than I thought. We should have taken the warning to serious – I didn't think her being like that. I mean every guy could exploit that ---"
He was cut there as a hard knock punch came from Anchorage-23, who's fuming an aura of pissed-off NCO.
"Shut your mouth." She said, her knuckles smoking.
"Off, I bet you deserve that one." Kidd comment at that punch.
JP Jones on the ground massages his soaring jaw. "Yeah... I know, just saying."
Out of the ground, he still feeling his jaw, but for some reasons, he stops as Theodore came into presence of everyone else.
"Atten hat." He called, bringing everyone into attention.
Everyone poised into attention dropping what commotion they were doing.
"Alright... everyone was here." Theodore sais after everyone stood in attention. "For now a I would assume the Flagship Role, Enterprise had requested for a leave, so basically I'm in charge of what left on her plan. She would only take a rest but still active behind the scene in the field of command."
She paused as to assess their reaction. "Any Questions?"
None had spoken as they hear the command.
~Time Skip~
Bunker Hill-76 sat on a bench beside the reflective pool at the Lincoln Memorial, meticulously assessing the damages her Modern Warship had sustained in a previous fight. The quiet click-clacking of her keyboard was the only sound accompanying her focused attention.
Suddenly, she paused, noticing slow, hesitant footsteps approaching her from her right. She glanced over and saw JP Jones walking toward her. She didn't need to ask his reason; he was clearly there to talk.
JP Jones took a deep breath, knowing full well how difficult she could be to engage in conversation. "Um... hey..." he began, his voice shaky. "can we have a talk?".
Bunker Hill-76 returned her attention to the laptop in her lap. "You have one," she stated, her tone direct and devoid of emotion.
'Is she always like that?' he wondered, feeling as though she barely acknowledged his existence.
"I know you and I both have a history we'd rather not remember... can we start again?" he pleaded, feeling as if he were in the middle of a confession, or worse, a job application where one wrong move could end it all.
She paused momentarily, and an eerie silence settled between them as he awaited her response. He could hear his heart throbbing in his chest.
"No," she said, shattering his expectations like a porcelain pot dropped to the ground.
"Wait—what?—why?" he quickly pressed.
"I will not forget that. It was supposed to be my day of commissioning, and because of you, it ended in disaster. Yes, I would like to bury and forget about it, but it became an embarrassment and international headline. My day of commissioning and joining the fleet ended up with another month in the dry dock after you collided with me."
JP Jones scratched the back of his head, admitting to himself that he was at fault. On that day, he was being decommissioned; all his onboard systems had been gutted, and his hull was left docked near her ship. Then it happened: a strong gust of wind snapped his mooring ropes, causing him to collide with her ship—a brand-new Nuclear Cruiser waiting at the pier for her commissioning.
"It was an accident," he reasoned, because it was the truth.
"Accident or not, it still leaves a hole and a mark," she retorted, leaving him silent, lost in thoughts of that day.
"If you'll excuse me, I'll take my leave," she said, gathering her things before walking away, leaving him there.
JP Jones raised a hand, wanting to speak further, but halted his motion. He simply let her leave. Defeated, he sat on the bench, watching her disappear from view.
"Well... that didn't work," he muttered to himself, looking down at the marbled slab beneath his feet.
"You just have to say sorry, man," a voice from behind him spoke.
Kidd emerged from her cover and sat beside him. She was there to offer some confidence to the sulking man.
"It's not that easy as you said it to be," he responded.
"It is easy, you just have to admit it." She leaned in, placing her hand over her left chest. "Along with your heart, of course." She followed this with a playful wiggle of her eyebrows.
JP Jones rested his head in his hands. "I don't know about that," he murmured.
...
~The Next Day~
Norfolk Naval Base Dorm
( IMAGE )
Laffey-200 shuffled into the kitchen, dragging her feet in her usual half-asleep fashion. She yawned, rubbed one eye, and opened the refrigerator. What greeted her inside was not the cold solace of booze—but empty, barren shelves.
Her liquor was gone.
She blinked, leaned closer, then scanned the top and bottom shelves. Still nothing. Her liquor wouldn't just vanish overnight nor magically disappear. The only way for it to be gone was for someone to consume it.
She hadn't consumed it. Someone had taken it without her permission.
"Someone took my booze..." she mumbled, her tone groggy from the early hour. "Someone's gonna pay."
She then proceeded to sniff out traces of her booze thief. She was quite familiar with the scents of the others, but this smell was new, yet it definitely came from one of them.
"It's him," she declared, as if she already had a clear image of the culprit for her missing booze.
Laffey-200's Bunny-Ears rose, raising like antennae sensors, ready to hunt for their prey. Like Active Air-Search Radars, they meticulously scanned her surroundings until she found it: the shape of the bottle materializing in her 3D scan, along with the culprit.
"Found you."
...
At the Harbor
At the solid concrete, multiple open bottles littered the ground, right beside a red cooler filled with ice and more bottles of booze. A man sat on a Metal Folding Chair, holding a katana in his right hand and a bottle of liquor in his left.
Zumwalt sat on his "Motivational" Metal Folding Chair, watching over the moored ships. This morning, he was tasked with keeping an eye on the moored Modern Warships.
Early this morning, he was already on his fourth bottle of booze. There was none of his "Monster Energy" drink left. He grimaced at the last empty can. With nothing else to consume, he stumbled upon a fridge, and luckily enough, it contained something good to drink, which was exactly what he was now consuming.
Not his finest moves, but it was felt right at the same time.
He raised the bottle and looked at its content, now half-empty. The sun glinted off the trickling beads of moisture. The sun shone calmly, yet his senses detected a brewing storm coming right for him.
His ears twitched perceptively as he noticed footsteps—calm yet heavy with each step. The accompanying aura was thick with animosity, making it hard to breathe, and deadly.
"A challenger..." he muttered to himself, shifting slightly in his seat, his knuckles tightened at his hilt of the Katana.
Laffey-200 stopped her pace. She stood behind him, bearing a serious look rarely seen on her, especially when she was out of her mood, or when someone had "Strategically Transferred" her stuff to another location.
"I stumbled into the kitchen and found my booze was gone from the fridge. I want it back," she said, cutting straight to the point.
Zumwalt gripped the hilt of his katana tightly and slowly rose from his seat, turning to face her. With a smirk, he raised his left hand, holding the bottle.
"If you want it, then you'll have to take it."
( IMAGE )
He glanced down at her thighs, where her two Desert Eagles were holstered. From the looks of it, they were already loaded and cocked.
"But it seems you already knew that," he said, returning his gaze to her face, now shrouded in shadow.
Laffey-200 slowly hovered her hands over the holstered Desert Eagles, her glowing ruby-red eyes fixed on him. "I knew you'd say something along those lines."
"How many times have we fought in separate encounters?" Zumwalt asked, as if rekindling old memories.
"...RIMPAC..."
"Yes... I remember - RIMPAC," Zumwalt echoed. "It was a long time ago. You failed to detect me... I was that close."
"You sneaky bastard... I missed my shot that time," Laffey-200 declared, her tone itching to pull the trigger.
With a soft cling of his sheath, his katana was raised, the blade glinting. "Then we'll have to find that out," Zumwalt said with a wide grin.
Both quickly drew their weapons in split seconds, faster than light. Laffey-200 drew both of her dual Desert Eagles, their chrome-plated muzzles shimmering under the sun. Both barrels pointed at him, sights aligned.
Zumwalt unsheathed his katana, lowering himself into a fighting stance, the sharp edges of the blade glinting along its line. His eyes darted forward, fixed on his opponent: The Drunken Bunny and her guns.
*SWISHHHH.....*
The two vanished, only their afterimages remaining. Then... gunshots and the slashing of a blade sounded, accompanied by ear-shattering booms.
Two Manjuus sat among the crates, wearing headphones, watched the blurring battle between the two. Sparks flew along with bullets being parried by Zumwalt's katana.
Those two then quickly proceeded to select songs on their phones, rapidly Browse through their playlists. Both pressed the play button. In their headphones, "Bury the Light" and "Devil Trigger" began to play.
The two Manjuus bobbed their heads at the beat of the song aligning at two's clash metal sparks flew along with wheezing bullets flew overhead.
The raging battle between the two didn't go unnoticed by the others at the Harbor. Their clash was accompanied by sonic booms and the blasts from Laffey-200's seemingly imperceptible Desert Eagles.
"Are we under attack?!" Lafayette frantically asked, quickly ducking down behind a crate to avoid deflected bullets.
"No... just the two of them having a fight," Laffey-459 said nonchalantly, watching the chaotic display they were creating.
"Why the hell are you even being calm in this situation?" Lafayette demanded, his voice pitching high with alarm.
"Nothing, Laffey senses no danger from them," Laffey-459 replied simply.
"Laffey feels the same," Laffey-724 added, equally unconcerned.
Lafayette stared at the two Laffeys in disbelief, his gaze narrowing.
Cleve-Dude and Canberra both ducked down behind the same crate where the others had taken refuge from the turbulent force the two fighters were generating.
"It's too damn early in the morning and these two are picking a fight!" Cleve-Dude exclaimed, exasperated.
"Looks like a fierce battle," Canberra observed.
Lafayette turned to face Cleve-Dude and asked, "Can you do something about these two? The whole Harbor is going to be destroyed if they continue like this!"
Cleve-Dude cautiously poked his head out from behind the crate and watched the two exchange blows, their afterimages lingering for a moment before they reappeared at another location. He quickly ducked back down for cover. "Nope. I choose life. Compared to these two, I'm nothing more than a canoe!"
"Mate's right, we're nothing compared to these two," Canberra said, visibly shaking just like Cleve-Dude.
Out in the open, Theodore casually walked toward them. She raised both hands, palms open. "What the hell is this?!" her voice boomed, annoyed by the early morning commotion.
Behind her, Bunker Hill-76 spoke. "That's enough, you two." Her tone was low yet audible to everyone, carrying an undeniable command.
Both Laffey-200 and Zumwalt immediately halted, their weapons still pointed. Zumwalt was face-to-face with the muzzle of Laffey's Desert Eagle, and based on the copper inside the barrel, it was loaded.
( IMAGE )
Meanwhile, Zumwalt's blade was an inch away from Laffey-200's neck. Both stared at one another for a tense moment before relinquishing their equipped weapons, returning them to their holsters or sheathes.
"I had you," Zumwalt declared.
"No. I had you," she retorted.
"Enough! I have more problems, and please, for the love of whoever put us here, can the two of you not add to the stacking issues we already have?" Bunker Hill-76 let out her frustration, a rare and uncharacteristic display for her.
She calmed down for a moment and continued. "Now... who started it?" Her tone was calm, but a clear undercurrent of frustration remained.
"He stole my booze," Laffey-200 accused, pointing a finger.
"It wasn't accommodated, so I had to take it," Zumwalt retorted.
The two exchanged sharp glances, as if ready to resume their interrupted battle.
Bunker Hill-76 raised a palm. "Enough."
The two stopped and looked back at her. Bunker Hill-76 then pointed toward the dorm. "Inside, NOW!"
But before the two could leave, she confiscated their weapons—no Katana, no Desert Eagle. The two then sat in the living room, ostensibly to reflect on their actions. Laffey-200 sat on the couch, while Zumwalt sat on his "Motivational" Metal Folding Chair, chin resting on his clasped hands. Both felt like naughty children thrown into detention. Their silence was palpable, yet the tension between them remained.
~Back at the Harbor~
Enterprise-80 strolled in, immediately noticed the tension in the air. "What was with the commotion earlier?" she asked as she walked along the path where the battle had taken place.
"Just a nonsensical squabble with a shallow dispute," Bunker Hill-76 responded flatly.
Enterprise-80 looked around and saw empty bottles. Based on the damage scattered across the harbor, it was clear who the culprits were. "It seems not just a simple squabble," she commented after her assessment.
With a sigh, Bunker Hill-76 adjusted her glasses. "Those two are loose cannons... good at wreaking havoc on enemy lines, and a pain in the butt when idle and doing nothing. Fighting is the only thing that entertains them."
Enterprise-80 nodded in agreement. "Yes... better to keep an eye on those two." She then raised her head, facing Bunker Hill-76 and Theodore. "Recall the two. I'm heading out."
"Why are you recalling the two, and why are you heading out? Aren't you supposed to be resting?" Theodore asked, concerned about Enterprise-80's departure.
"I'm heading for the Sakura Empire to cure this change in personality. The Sakurans do have—what shall we say—a spiritual connection. They might have the knowledge, or just a way to control it," Enterprise-80 explained.
Theodore cupped her chin, pondering. "That might be the best way to handle that kind of problem. The next operation is scheduled to commence early next year. It's the best chance, I guess."
Bunker Hill-76 agreed. "That would be our only chance for you to quickly recover and return to command."
"Okay..." Theodore's voice cut through. "Now, why would you want those two?"
"I want them to escort me on my voyage. It's better for me to keep an eye on those two," Enterprise-80 stated.
"Are you sure you can handle those two?" Theodore asked, skeptical of Enterprise-80's current state to even stop their squabbling.
"I can manage those two, just not to let my Alter-Ego come out and make everything worse," she said calmly, yet an ominous undertone made it unclear if it was her Alter-Ego speaking or her true self.
"Hope it doesn't reach that point, ma'am," Bunker Hill-76 said, a hint of concern in her voice.
Enterprise-80 then turned her gaze to the two LCSs, Cleveland-31 and Canberra, and pointed. "You two, you're coming with us."
Cleve-Dude and Canberra looked at one another, both clearly uneasy about being stuck with "the two monsters"—the Residential Drunk Bunny and the Motivational Demon.
"Are you sure we would be a big help—I mean... we're lacking in some capabilities compared to those two," Cleve-Dude said, his shoulders and hands raised in a shrug.
Canberra bobbed her head, agreeing with him.
Enterprise-80 raised a calm, open palm to ease the LCSs' concern. "No need for that. I'm reallocating Laffey-724 along with the others for my departure."
"I'm in action, YEY...!" Laffey-724 beamed, yet her expression remained unchanged.
'Yey... one problem was out of my hand,' Lafayette silently cheered to himself as Laffey-724 was reallocated to another division. Having two Laffeys around was a nightmare for him.
"You're happy," Laffey-459 said, noticing his quiet relief.
"Umm... I'm just happy that she has her own team," Lafayette stammered, trying to sound nonchalant.
"You're going to bring her along?" Bunker Hill-76 asked, surprised by Enterprise-80's decision.
"I have a use for her other than just being an escort. I think she can shake off the indifference between the two," Enterprise-80 replied.
"Understandable," Bunker Hill-76 responded, as this kind of pragmatic reply was expected.
Laffey-200 had a soft spot for her smaller variant "Laffey-724". Zumwalt, on the other hand, might soften a bit, but that was only speculation and not yet confirmed.
As the two conversed, Theodore noticed some brown fur and fox-ears sticking out. She leaned to her side to get a clearer view, she suited her eyes hand cupping her chin. Like a child opening the memories in her mind.
"Say, who's the Fox fella?" she asked, curious about the identity of the fox-woman.
Everyone turned to look at the Fox-Woman, who wore a red kimono matching her flowing brown hair matched her fox-like ears and fluffy tail. She stood out like a memory—too elegant, too nostalgic.
Enterprise-80 stepped forward with a gentle smile and gestured, ready to introduce her. "Everyone... I want you to meet Amagi."
Everyone who knew Amagi's history gasped, their mouths agape, eyes bulging from their sockets. Lafayette pointed a trembling finger.
"H-How? You're suppose to be dead!"
Amagi, being assisted by Frigate Belfast at her side, made a slow, sincere bow. "My apologies... if I've frightened some of you, but it truly is me. I was alive, and captured by the Sirens."
As usual, Amagi delivered her signature cough.
Everyone was finally at ease; they were not facing a ghost or the undead, but rather the very much alive Amagi. Her characteristic 'cough' gave it away.
Cleve-Dude noticed that Canberra had actually raised her Boomerang, ready to strike at the supposed undead. To all the crazy things that happened in Australia, Canberra's reaction was surprisingly relatable.
"Whoa, easy... put the boomerang down," he said, slowly pulling it down.
"Sorry, just my natural reaction to the undead," she replied, then stowed it back into her inventory.
"We will make a quick detour at Guantanamo to visit Akagi before we head to the Sakura Empire," Enterprise-80 explained, giving the reason for Amagi's presence.
"Before I return home, I would visit Akagi and confront her about her wrongdoings," Amagi said, tears slowly trickling down her face. "I know, as her sister, I feel the immense pain of watching her do all the wrong and commit betrayal. I would like to ease her mind and heart; I know, as her sister, that she is in great pain at this moment."
...
Cuba, Guantanamo Bay Detention Center
Akagi's Cell
Akagi woke up breathing heavily, sweat trickling down her forehead. She quickly got up and rubbed her throbbing head.
"What was that... Sister... why are you in my dreams?" she muttered groggily to herself.
From another cell, a woman spoke. "Another dream again, Akagi?"
Odin, in her own cell, had woken up from Akagi's cries in her sleep. The same thing happened almost every morning; Akagi always seemed to have vivid dreams early in the morning.
"No, not this time..." Akagi said, her head hanging low in her cell.
"What is it this time?" Odin asked, sensing a distinct difference from her usual nightmares.
"My Sister Amagi... she's...." tears dripping down her eyes, her voice hitching at each sob. "she's alive," she said, slowly beginning to cry.